


A Study in Control, or a Lack Thereof

by DilynAliceBlake



Category: Smallville
Genre: BDSM, D/s relationship, M/M, dub-con, etc - Freeform, kryptonite's affects on clark
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-06-15
Updated: 2016-06-22
Packaged: 2018-04-04 13:10:36
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 12
Words: 6,033
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4138806
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DilynAliceBlake/pseuds/DilynAliceBlake
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Instead of stupidly volatile experiments with the black kryptonite, Lex gets a small amount made into a ring, and the rest is being further researched.  Unfortunately, even without splitting Lex in two the material still has a strange propensity for bringing to the forefront traits that you prefer be kept ignored or repressed.  Lex’s personality balancing act becomes a bit more precarious.  This is barely a notable topic once proximity to the ring brings out its effects on Clark.  </p><p>But what could Clark Kent, resident Kansas Farmboy and Good Samaritan, possibly be denying about his own nature?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

 

Lex kept careful note of the ring’s affects on him, planning to write it all up in a report for the labs later. Being a text subject for the synthesized substance was exhilarating, but when Lex walked into his office of the manor, the only things he felt were a strange combination of more compassionate and more powerful. It reminded him of his childhood years spent unsure of whether the gentle kindness of his mother or assured control of his father would be better to aspire to.

 

The odd mixture lead to him making sure anyone employed in his company would have the best and most comprehensive benefits. It also lead to him firing anyone who couldn’t follow directions or was too prone to stirring up trouble. Really, the ring just ended up making Lex feel like a giant mother hen. It was an interesting day of making sure everyone under his employ had enough vacation days, and no one was prone to playing hooky.

 

 

Clark Kent spent his day like any other. Following a long list of directions he really would rather not. He got up when his mother wanted him too, put on the clothes everyone expected him to, did the chores his father insisted out of him. Clark got exactly the grades that wouldn’t draw suspicion or attention to him, despite his stellar memory. He acted the part of Clark Kent, Farm Boy. His every mannerism instructed of him after his parents and he determined what would best keep the secret that Clark Kent actually resented keeping.

 

It wasn’t like he wanted to run it in the school’s papers! He just resented that he was forbidden even from telling his closest friends. Although, since he had been raised to be a sensible and honorable young man, Clark couldn’t even resent his parents too much, always hearing his father’s guilt trips and his mother’s quiet concern whenever he began to fall too deeply into what he thought was actually typical teenage behavior.

They only wanted what was best, and to keep Clark safe.

 

At the end of the day, Clark struggled against his father’s adamant assertion that Clark shouldn’t be friends with Lex. With his mother mostly on his side, it made the conflict easier.

 

Lex was Clark’s best friend, and Clark turned Jonathan Kent’s own firm moral code against the man, because abandoning his best friend would be wrong, Lex deserved a chance, just like any other human being.

 

Another round of family arguments won, Clark was relatively guiltless that evening on his way to Luthor Manor.

 

Upon entering the office where Lex was finishing up a call, however, Clark Kent became susceptible to the plain band of nearly obsidian looking stone that was a ring adorning Lex’s left hand.

 

Eager to please, holding no small amount of love, trust, and admiration for Lex, and so obedient it was a reflex at this point, Clark Kent felt a strange sensation wash over him. Then suddenly he was free of the compulsion to be something he wasn’t, and compelled to be his best at whatever he was for Lex.

 


	2. Chapter 2

Clark had not realized how tense he was, until he started to relax.  It felt novel, to let go of that constant underlying fear of being caught, of slipping up.  Letting his defenses down, Clark realized exactly how far reaching they were.  It had never occurred to him for a single second that, just like he controlled his strength and his x-ray vision, so, too, could his invulnerability be controlled.  It made sense that he could only tone the power down when he wasn’t afraid for his wellbeing.

 

Clark wasn’t afraid now, because he was safe with Lex, and Lex would never let anything happen to him.  He was taken care of.

 

When Lex saw Clark sway slightly on his feet, he was concerned.  When Clark fell to his knees with a look of relaxed bliss on his face, Lex hastily rescheduled and hung up the phone.

 

Clark didn’t look his usual amalgamation of shy, innocent, clumsy, well meaning, and guilty.  So where had the strain of the weight he usually seemed to carry gone? 

 

“Clark! Are you okay?”

“I feel good, Lex.  Really good.”

“Are you sure?  Because collapsing onto my office floor doesn’t exactly scream “alright” to me.”

“I’m fine.  More than fine.”

 

As Lex approached, the effects of the ring became more pronounced, and Clark’s attention was drawn to the source of his current predicament, if you could call it that.

 

“Ohhhh, kryptonite.”  Clark gave Lex a dopey smile.

 

“Clark-Are you _high_?”  Understandably incredulous, Lex placed the back of his hand against Clark’s flushed face.

 

“No.  Yes.  Well, sort of.  I think it’s your ring.  I’ve never seen that color kryptonite before.  It kind of just makes me want to be good.”

 

Lex snorted.

 

“No, I mean, I always want to be good.  But everyone wants different things, and what I want never really seems to factor in.  Only, now, I want to be good for _you_.  I want to make you happy, Lex.  Just like always, only, _more_.  How can I make you happy?”


	3. Chapter 3

Lex’s mind was racing a mile a minute, because if the way the ring magnified his personality was any indication, then the way that Clark was _kneeling on the floor asking how best to please him_ was part of Clark’s core personality.  A shiver went up the billionaire’s spine.  The controlling part of him was all for this change.  The gentler part of him was….Mainly concerned with taking very good care of Clark.

 

“I want to spoil you,” he said.  Clark looked confused.  “I want you to stop returning my gifts.  Let me buy you things.  And clothes.”

 

Clark’s cloudy expression cleared.  Buying presents was how Lex expressed that he cared, and really it had been rather rude of him to reject them.  A giggle escaped Clark at the word ‘clothes’.  For some reason the idea of Lex choosing what he wore every day made him giddy.

 

“No wonder you wander around like you have the weight of the world on your shoulders.  You’ve been trying to literally _please everyone_!  That isn’t healthy Clark.”

 

Clark bit his lip, blushing and moving his gaze to the ground.  Seeing Lex upset about something he had done made his stomach twist up in knots.

 

“Sorry,” he whispered.

 

“Hey, no need for that.  You’re not in trouble.”  It felt a little weird to say it, but watching Clark brighten nearly instantly soothed any misgivings he may have had.  Watching before his very eyes the way that Clark seemed to be wired to put others first and strive for praise sent a thrill through Lex, but that paled in comparison to the _possessiveness_ that raced through him.  Still, Lex didn’t want to force Clark’s personality into focus if that wasn’t what _Clark_ wanted.

 


	4. Chapter 4

“Clark, I’m going to ask you something, and I want you to tell me the truth. No more lies, okay?”

“I’m an alien!” Clark blurted abruptly, before suddenly looking bashful. “Like, from space. You did hit me with your car on the bridge that day.” 

It took all of Lex Luthor’s considerable willpower to stay standing at the sudden exclamation. The phrase ‘no more lies,’ had been reflexive when dealing with Clark at this point, but he hadn’t imagined for a second that Clark would listen. He ran his hand through Clark’s hair gently, both to soothe the boy and for positive reinforcement.

“I’m glad that you told me, Clark, and we’re going to talk more about that later, but that isn’t what I was going to ask you. Why don’t you wait for me to finish asking question before answering them, alright?”

“I-Alright Lex.”

“Excellent. Now, I was going to say, do you like the way that this meteor rock makes you feel? I know you said it was good, but I want you to really think about how it affects your choices before deciding. It’s tempting, Clark, really tempting to just get you a bracelet with the synthesized rock and keep you like this.”

“I want-”

“No, Clark. You’re basically in subspace right now, and the phrase dubious consent has never been more applicable. So, are you listening?”

A meek nod in response, followed by Clark nuzzling into Lex’s palm.

Lex recited the alphabet backwards in Greek in his head.

“So, I want you to go home and spend the rest of the week thinking about this, okay? Then Saturday you can come visit, and we’ll talk about your apparent extraterrestrial status and what that means. After all that, you can give me your answer.”

Clark made a small whining noise, obviously displeased at waiting so long to see Lex again.

“I know, I know. But I need you to be patient. You can text me whenever you want. Any questions you have, or even just telling me about your day. Whatever your answer is Saturday, I won’t be mad, understand?”

Clark swallowed, then grabbed Lex’s wrist and moved his hand to press a kiss to the open palm. 

“Okay, Lex.” Clark sped out of the room, blushing furiously at his own gall.


	5. Chapter 5

Lex went back to his desk, sinking into his chair with a groan.  He reached for his phone and dialed the only person who might understand his current plight.

 

“Yes, Lex?” Lionel’s voice was gentler than it had been in years, and managed to be curious without being pressuring.

 

“If you’re doing an about face then I can call you just to chat.  Like a normal son.”

Lex could _hear_ how stunned his father was on the other end of the line.

 

“I suppose.  What would you like to talk about, then?”

 

Lex’s tone was childish and whining.  “Being good is _harrrd._ ”

 

For perhaps the first time in a rather cruel and mirthless life, or at the very least, the for the fist time since the death of his wife, Lionel Luthor gave a joyous laugh, surprised, amused, and maybe even the teensiest bit fond.

 


	6. Chapter 6

Clark, meanwhile, was practicing his control over his invulnerability in an effort to avoid thinking about a certain bald someone standing over him while he knelt and _nuzzled into his hand_.  So far he had figured out that he had to feel relatively safe to be able to drop his defenses like that.  Hearing anything that sounded even remotely _like_ a power tool made him too nervous.  Being too close to the road lit up those same “too dangerous” signals in his head.  He had to keep the impervious thing while running, or else the wind bothered his eyes too much and he couldn’t keep them open to see.

 

Another thing he was trying to get some control over was healing.  If he could figure out how to keep a bruise for more than a few minutes then he could alleviate a whole heap of the scrutiny and suspicion that was on him.  _And have a hickey_.

 

Clark tripped and banged his elbow.

 

“Sonuva-!  Ow ow oww, oh.  No, wait, this is, that’s good.”

 

It took a lot of focus to keep a bruise.  Nearly half of Clark’s attention had to be on preventing it from healing.  Interestingly, he could have a bruise and be invulnerable at the same time, but the injury would still be tender and send ‘careful!’ signals to his brain.

 

“Clark, was that you?  You’re back from Lex’s rather early.  Did you two have another fight?”

 

“Mom!”  Clark grinned.  “No, I just-”

 

“Ohmygod is that a _bruise_?  What happened?  Did you get hit by a plane?”

 

“Mom, how would I get hit by a plane?”

 

“Jonathan!  Jonathan Clark’s hurt!”

 

“Mom, I’m fine!  It’s fine!  I just-”

 

“I knew it!  What did that Luthor do to you?”

 

“Nothing Dad!  Guys, really, I’m fine!”

“Why isn’t it healing?  Are you really Clark?”

 

“Would you two stop freaking out and just _listen to me_?!”

 

“Fine, son.  Talk.”

 

“I was at Lex’s, and I felt _safe_.”

 

Jonathan scoffed.

 

“Do you want to hear the explanation or not?”

 

A reluctant nod to continue, and then-

 

“So, I felt safe, like really safe.  It was… I never realized how on guard I was all the time, ya know?  And then suddenly I felt like I didn’t have to be, because Lex wouldn’t let anything hurt me.  He has a whole security team, and doctors all right on the property.  Nothing was gonna come get me.  So when I bumped my knee and it _hurt_ I-”

 

“Knee?  The bruise is on your elbow.”

 

“Yeah, I’ve been practicing.  It’s really difficult, I think it has something to do with the density of my skin?  I’m not really sure.  But if I pay attention, I can slow down the healing too.”


	7. Chapter 7

**a/n: this chapter to Laranida, whose comments convinced me that maybe I should at least write what was already in my head**

 

“I don’t like it, Martha,” Johnathan growled, once they were both reasonably sure that Clark was either asleep or out in his fortress, so too lost brooding to listen in.

“Clark is gaining more control over himself, what’s not to like Johnathan?”

“Why would our son feel safe around the Luthor scion, but not in his own home?”

“Maybe it’s one of those things that comes with age, and could just as easily have happened here.”

“Then it should’ve!  What if something had happened, or the Luthor boy had done something?  What if he was like that and the roof of that hideous pile of rock had caved in?”

“Don’t you think that’s being a little paranoid, Johnathan?  Lex is a good kid, and Clark’s friend.  He doesn’t even know that Clark isn’t that vulnerable normally, and he hasn’t taken advantage yet.”

“He suspects, Martha.  I don’t think Clark should be over there all the time, adding to those suspicions.”

Martha sighs.

“Johnathan, you know Clarks secrets aren’t going to stay secret forever.  One day he’s going to fall in love, maybe even want to get married—“

“Yeah, but that’s still keeping it in the family, and _away_ from Luthors!”

It occurs to Martha that her husband is perhaps completely within the realm of the oblivious, and blind taboot.  She decides to enlighten him.

“Well, I suppose Lex may change his last name if Clark asks.  It would hardly be the best for business, but he certainly has no fondness for his father, and it would be a wonderful insult towards Lionel.”

“Martha, what are you talking about?  Sure, the boy likes throwing his money around for Clark, but I can’t think of a reason Clark would ask him to change his name.”  He frowns at the seeming change of subject.  “Besides, we were talking about marriage, not--”

Martha can tell precisely when the penny drops, because so does all the blood from Johnathan’s face.


	8. Chapter 8

Once it’s brought to Clark’s attention how Lex makes him feel, he can’t just go back to repressing and ignoring it.  The protective, commanding, _adoring_ demeanor Lex exhibited at the Manor sends prickles through Clark that have him wanting to take risks to please Lex.

 

He isn’t allowed to go and see him until the weekend, and that’s when they’ll talk about his status as an extraterrestrial and the possibility of… Well, whatever is between them becoming _more._

That ring Lex has didn’t put those feelings there, though.  And Lex didn’t say he couldn’t text.

 

So during second period math, Clark sends a message to Lex, sparks of thrill in his ribcage when he imagines how Lex will feel reading it.

 

            Sent 9:26 am

            Recipient: MrKnowItAll

 

            what would you like me to wear?

 

Looking down at his phone, Lex about chokes on his coffee.  He’s in a meeting, but he gestures quickly that he’s fine and wrestles his coughing under control.  What the hell kind of question is that?  Lex sends a picture message of a collar in reply, then instantly regrets it.  He’s supposed to be giving Clark space, not putting kinky ideas in the boy’s head.  He hastens to undo damage he knows can't be undone.

 

            Sent 9:41 am

            Recipient: Clark

 

            Delete that.

 

He sends another message, not quite changing the subject, but still hopefully redirecting the tone of their interaction. 

 

            Sent 9:44 am

            Recipient: Clark

 

            Nice clothes. Not flannel.

            I’d like it if we matched.

            I bet you’d look great in a

            suit.

 

 

Clark spends the rest of the class trying to get his cock under control, knowing that the blush is a lost cause.  He deletes the picture as soon as he gets the message telling him to, but nothing could scour that image from his mind.  He wonders how good he would have to be, to get Lex to buy something like that for him.  The next images he gets don’t help any with his arousal, because they comprise of entire outfits, implying that when Lex meant the collar he meant _only_ the collar.

 

On his way to third period he shoves his flannel jacket into his locker, and sends a picture of that to Lex.

 

            Sent 10:04 am

            Recipient: MrKnowItAll

 

            no flannel. got it.

 

Spending the rest of the day ignoring the stares he gets in nothing but his clingy tee shirt is worth it, because the last text Lex sends is Clark’s favorite.

 

            Recieved 11:03 am

            From: MrKnowItAll

 

            I- Clark, I didn’t mean-

            That’s- …Good boy.


	9. Chapter 9

Early Thursday morning, Clark sends a message to Lex asking what colors he’s wearing that day.  Lex’s responds with a simple and blatant “Purple.”  It’s a color he’s never seen Clark in, and to the teen it feels like a challenge.

 

He goes through his entire closet twice, but can’t find a single article.

 

He isn’t quite defeated, but he’d hate to ruin a perfectly good surprise, so Clark sends another message.

 

            Sent 6:19 am

            Recipient: MrKnowItAll

 

            what suit? black or gray?

 

Lex responds with black, and Clark gathers every ounce of his daring.  What he is about to do has no guarantee of making Lex happy.  But if he gets this right… If Lex likes Clark’s choice then it will be well worth any stares.

 

He only owns one pair of black jeans, and they’re a little more faded than he would like, but needs must.  He pairs them with a black tank top and hoodie, because it’s too cold for short sleeves but he isn’t allowed flannel.  Once his shoes are tied, he goes to finish getting ready, ignoring his humming bird’s pulse.


	10. Chapter 10

            Sent 6:40 am

            Recipient: Pete

 

            i need you to cover for

            me. if anyone asks say

            i lost a bet. actually,

            start spreading it around

            now. we had a bet, i lost,

            and it’s funny. i’ll owe you.

 

Pete Ross does a lot for his best friend, including and not limited to a whole slew of lies with absolutely no explanation as to why.  Right now, he is mentally tallying up how much exactly Clark owes him this time, and Clark isn’t even on school grounds yet.

 

“What kind of bet?” Chloe demands.

 

“Nuh-uh, not telling.  You’ll just have to wait and see.  That is, if the chump is willing to show up.”

 

It’s a good thing Pete doesn’t actually have a clue what Clark is up to, because if he knew he probably would have cracked under Chloe's scrutiny the bus ride over.

When he spots Clark making his way down the hallway, Pete’s jaw drops.

 

“I-I-”  It takes several seconds of gaping to remember that he’s part of Clark’s cover.

“I didn’t think he’d do it.”

 

Clark is wearing all black, and between the clothes and his (artfully mussed?!?) raven curls his eyes already stand out as a beacon of color.

 

“Is that _lipstick_? And matching _eyeliner_? _Purple_?!”

 

Anything there is to say, Chloe has already shrieked it, and any eyes that weren’t already are now on Clark.  Enough people overheard Pete and Chloe arguing about the bet that the entire school will know by halfway through first period why Clark has shimmer gel outlining his brilliantly blue gaze.  He’s blushing an awful lot for someone who didn’t actually lose a bet.

 

Several flashes go off, and Clark smirks, something mischievous in his eyes.

 

“Make sure to tag me!” he shouts, sounding sarcastic, but Pete knows that now everyone will.

 

“Clark,” now that Chloe is over the shock she seems to be cracking up.  “You need to put a gloss on over that lipstick.”

 

Chloe leans in and applies her own grape flavored Extra Shine, and several new rounds of flashes go off when she’s done.

 

Pete watches the smug giddiness that Clark carries with him all the way to third period, and when Chloe goes off to print something when they’re working on the paper Pete finally gets a chance to ask what the actual hell is going on.

 

“Clark.  My man.  My bud.  What the actual _hell_ is going on?”

 

“I knew it!” Chloe exclaims, barging in with a bulldog determined expression.

 

“Where you waiting outside the door?” Clark asks, everything about his posture screaming _Really??_

 

Chloe has the decency to turn pink.

 

“I was following up on a suspicion.”

 

“Don’t you think that’s an invasion of privacy?”

 

“I think that my need to know in this instance justifiably outweighs the moral grey area of eavesdropping.”

 

Clark winces notably at Chloe’s logic, shuffling in his seat.  Pete decides to call her out.

 

“You didn’t even have anything to print, did you?”

 

She figets with her flash drive, then narrows her gaze on Pete.

 

“You’re changing the subject.”

 

Suddenly the door closes with a _snick_ and they both turn to look at Clark, who's suddenly on the other side of the room.

 

“Do you guys really want to know what’s up?”

 

“Oh, you owe me _at least_ that much,” Pete says.

 

Clark nods humbly at this, and drags a chair to sit so no one can open the door and barge in.  The last thing this confrontation needs is the surprise addition of Lana or Whitney.

 

“Okay, so I don’t like Lana anymore.”

 

“There are better places to explore your identity than in front of the _entire school_!” Chloe exclaims.

 

Clark sends her a look.

 

“You mean, like where my parents might see?”

 

“…Fair point.”

 

“So, lately I’ve been less and less interested in Lana, which I didn’t really think anything of until-”

 

“This is about Luthor.”  The astute observation comes from Pete, and Clark looks shocked.

 

“He’s the only one you act so out of whack about," Pete defends his (obviously correct) assumption.

 

That's not something that can really be contradicted.

 

“Okay, well, I’ve been kind of, flirting? I guess, with Lex.  And I found out that he likes the whole couples who do the matchy thing.”

 

“Purple _is_ his color,” Chloe nods to herself, mentally clicking puzzle pieces into place.  “You’re definitely making a statement.  After this I guess we’ll be seeing a lot more of you in gray and baby blue.”

 

She squints at his outfit.

 

“And, it looks like a lot more of you in general.  If I had to guess I’d say Lex isn’t a fan of the flannels.”

 

With a blush and a shrug the subject is dropped.

 

“Pete, are you okay?  You’ve been pretty quiet about this, and I know you and Lex don’t really get along…” Clark hedges.

 

“Clark, this is actually the most reassuring thing that’s happened to me all year.”

 

Clark’s eyebrows climbed towards his hairline.

 

“Me showing up to school in Super Shimmer eyeliner is the most reassuring thing that’s happened to you all year?”

 

“Look, it pains me to admit it, but the main reason I don’t like Luthor isn’t because of what his dad did to my family.  Even I know that wasn’t his fault.”

 

“Then what-”

 

“Ever since you two started hanging out you’ve got less and less time for me and Chlo.  I might've thought you were replacing us.  Replacing me as your best friend.”

 

For a heartbeat, the air is heavy with the weight of those words.  Then Pete sheds his seriousness like a cocoon and gets a smug smirk.

 

“ _But_ it turns out you’ve just got the crush of all crushes on that uptight jerk.  That means _I_ am still the best friend you could ever dream of having- as evidenced by my covering for your ass today- and _you_ still go gaga to disturbing and awkward extremes when it comes to romance.  Balance of the world restored.

That settled, I’ve got business to attend to.”

 

“What sort of business?”

 

“ _I_ am about to ask out Lana Lang.  And I’ll do a better job of it than you ever managed.  Not that that’s hard.  I just have to walk up to her without turning green, puking, or faceplanting.”

 

Pete departs casually, and Chloe has the grace to keep her reaction to the entire ordeal toned down to snorts and chuckles.

 

The air between him and Pete cleared, Clark feels relieved.  Now the only thing to do is wait for Lex’s to take his first break of the day and log onto media.  If he’s following Clark’s name, or even if he’s just not _blind,_ then he should see Clark’s outfit before the day is out.  Probably from several angles and distances, in multiple lightings.

 

Clark wanted to make sure Lex got to see the full effect, and this way was so much more fun than sending a dozen awkwardly posed selfies.


	11. Chapter 11

Lex Luthor doesn’t take many breaks.  He is a serious business man, and it takes real focus to keep pace in the world of stocks and sharks.  He makes a point, however, to keep a keen eye on news and media, for strategic reasons.

 

Opening up the page during lunch, Lex’s heart skips three beats, and he is reduced to doing nothing except _stare_.

 

One picture of Clark looking up through unmistakably lengthened lashes would have been _more_ than enough to crash Lex’s train of thought.  _This,_ however…  For the next four minutes solid, he probably doesn’t have a thought more profound than ‘purple, those curls, those eyes, and _liner_ , those _lips_ , fuck, _fuck_.’

 

At first Lex wants to scour that site and every other he can think of, until he’s sure he has a saved copy of **_every. single. picture_.  ** Logic wins out, and he saves only his fourteen favorites.  He designates them their own folder, and flips through all of them twice.

 

‘ _Fuck.’_

 

He starts a text message, and then decides that that’s nowhere near drastic enough for this situation.

 

“ _Claaark,_ ” he purrs into the phone line. “Doth Mother know you weareth her drapes?”

 

Slightly mollified by the indignant spluttering, Lex settles more comfortably into his chair.

 

He starts to reply, but Lex shushes him.

 

“Don’t say anything yet.  Go somewhere private.  The bathroom, the roof, a janitor’s closet if you have to.”

 

From the other end of the line Lex can make out breaths best described as fluttering, and he’s relieved that he isn’t the only one effected by the stunt Clark has pulled.

 

Clark must be somewhere private then, because he tries talking again.

 

“Lex-”

 

“Stop speaking, Clark.  If I have to _look_ at you, you have to _listen_ to me.”

 

Lex hears a shakey gasp in, and decides that starting off on a gentler foot might be better.

 

“I’m very pleased, Clark.  I know you did this for me.  I can’t even imagine what the other students at your school think.  No no, don’t tell me.  That’s not important.  What’s important is that you did very good, and you deserve a reward.”

 

Clark squeaks, and Lex bites his lip at how precious it is.

 

“Where are you?”

 

“An empty classroom.”  Clark had broken the lock and then shoved a bookshelf full of old textbooks in front of the door.  Lunch didn’t technically start for another fifteen minutes, but Clark had snuck out of class when his phone started vibrating with the call.  The teacher was on his computer while a video was left playing anyway; Clark wasn’t missing anything important.

 

“Good,” Lex said, “Now _do exactly as I say_.”

 

Clark closed his eyes and nodded.  “Okay,” he mumbled belatedly.

 

This was definitely more important than the video on tourism in Spain.


	12. Chapter 12

Lex hasn’t even said anything really dirty yet, but Clark is still trembling just from hearing his crush’s voice purring at him.  Every time he hears the word “good” it makes his cock twitch, and ordinarily he might be embarrassed.  Under the spotlight of Lex’s undivided and approving attention, all shame seems to have fled.

 

“ _Please,_ Lex!” Clark whines, when orders aren’t immediately forthcoming.

  
“Mmm, so desperate for me to tell you what to do?  How good are your senses, Clark?  What can you hear over the phone line?”

 

Clark focuses his hearing in time to hear a short sort of _bzzzt_ , and it isn’t immediately that he can place it for what it is.

 

A handful of heartbeats, and some cloth rustling later, Clark realizes what he’s listening in on and whimpers.

 

“Oh, you can hear that?”  Lex sounds vaguely interested, somehow managing to imply scientific distance from the situation at hand.

 

“Yes,” Clark answers, because that was a question.

 

“Interesting.  I’m already stroking myself, Clark.  I’m thinking about you in that lipstick, how good you’d look gazing up at me panting.  Picture me, Clark.  Can you hear my heartbeat?”

Now that he’s listening for it, Clark can, as well as the scandalous slip of skin on skin that can only be one thing.

 

“Yeah,” Clark says again, feeling helpless.

 

“You’re doing so well, Clark.  I bet you haven’t even made a move to touch yourself yet.”

 

With a shock, Clark realizes that what Lex is saying is true; he hasn’t even adjusted himself so that the zipper of his jeans won’t bother him.

 

What Lex just said isn’t a question, but Clark is listening to the beat of his heart and the sound of him stroking himself, and is in desperate need of some relief.  He’ll beg for it if he has to.

 

“Please, Lex, the zipper, it’s bothering me, please?  Let me-”

 

“Not yet,” Lex’s command is sharp, and Clark’s hips give an involuntary jerk towards nothing. More noises, shaky and pleading in the way the sound, escape his lips.

 

“God, Clark.  You beg so prettily.  Has anyone ever told you that?”

 

“No,” Clark responds immediately, honestly, in a way that is becoming quickly habitual.  Lex told him to answer his questions once he finished asking them, so Clark _will_.

 

“Excellent,” Lex commends.  “I should be the only one who gets to hear you like this.  Are you ready for some orders, Clark?”

 

“ _Yes_!” Clark enthuses.  Anything would be better than this teasing anticipation.

 

“You’re lips, Clark, must feel a bit different all glossed up like they are.  Run your fingers over them.  Pay close attention to the smooth, sticky slide.  I’ll be thinking about how they’d feel pressed against my cock, while you do.”

 

A shudder runs through Clark as he does as ordered.  It’s such a small thing, but it’s more erotic than anything he’s ever experienced.  He can’t tell if that’s because of the buildup, or because he was _told_ to, or if it’s just how he would react to anything sexual, so long as it was Lex.

“Good, now push a finger in; just one, _slowly_.  Wrap your tongue around it.  Stroke the tip a few times.  Nice and even, don’t get too carried away.”

 

Clark is trying desperately to control himself, but he keens, just a little; asking for more without stopping what he’s been told to do.

 

“Wonderful, just like that,” Lex praises, as if he can see what Clark is doing to approve.

 

“Now _suck._ ”

 

Clark does, completely lost to the sensation and the sound of Lex, humping at the air and praying to God that he’s not being loud enough for anyone to hear.

 

“Mmm, add another finger, Clark.  That’s two.  …Now three.  …Faster, in and out.  Fuck your mouth with them, like I would if I was there.  I can hear you slurping.  Do you have any idea how you sound?  Good, good, keep it up, almost… almost… **_Clark!_** ”

 

Clark doesn’t stop when Lex is coming; he keeps shoving his fingers in and out of his mouth, moaning near constantly, until suddenly-

 

“ **Stop**.”  Lex’s voice rings out firmly, but Clark can hear him trying to catch his breath, can make out the thump-thump of his heartbeat trying to realign itself.

 

Still, the order is what registers first, and he freezes, dragging his fingers out of his mouth.

 

“Yessir,” he slurs, dazed, and waits to be told what to do next.  Clark’s entire body is buzzing, and belatedly he realizes his feet aren’t quite touching the ground.

 

“’M floating,” he says, because it seems important.

 

“You sound it,” Lex teases affectionately, voice warm.

 

“No.  Well, yeah.  But, um, also literally.”

 

“You’re…  Okay, that’s, _interesting_.  Do you want to stop?”

 

“No sir!” he says quickly, and wonders how that formality keeps sneaking into his sentences.

 

“No, Lex.  I don’t want to stop.”

 

“Alright, Clark.  Just tell me if you do.”

 

“Okay,” he agrees amicably, because that’s an easy one; he’ll hardly have to think about it, since he doesn’t have to unless he wants to stop.  Clark doesn’t think that’s likely.

 

“Right, well.  You’ve been listening so well, Clark.  Can you do something else for me?”

 

“Mmmyeah,” he responds, still feeling a little fuzzy.  Lex has had really good ideas so far, Clark wants to do more of them.

 

“You’re fingers are all wet,” Lex informs him, and suddenly Clark is noticing how cool they are outside the heat of his mouth.

 

“They’ll feel really good on your cock, when you touch yourself.”

 

Clark makes a questioning noise, suddenly eager to know when that will be.

 

“You can do that now, Clark.”

 

Clark does, without even opening his jeans, and the button flies off to crack into the window across from him.  He’s on the second floor, though, and no one can see him, so that doesn’t matter.  Clark barely notices, in the flood of bliss that hits him when he gets a grip around his dick.

 

“Stroke slow, just like earlier with your tongue,” Lex says.  “Try not to move your hips into it.”

 

Clark whines at the difficult order, but complies and tries to keep everything but his hand still.

 

“Now speed up… Now slow again.  Fast… Slow… Squeeze.  Stroke hard.  Now rub the slit.  Fast again.  Twist your wrist.”

 

Lex’s instructions seem to go on and on, and Clark is once again lost in them.  Then from nowhere, he hears Lex’s voice telling him to show what a good boy he is and come, and Clark is orgasming, hand still shoved down the front of his pants.

 

“Lex!” he manages to gasp out, and then it’s his turn to wait for his heartbeat to slow again.

 

“Did you like that, Clark?” Lex prods, though it’s a silly question when Clark just came.

 

“Very much, Lex,” he reassures, breathless.  He wonders how much of the lunch period is left, and weather his jeans are dark enough to make the stain unnoticeable.

 

Lex talks him through straightening his clothes a bit, and croons a few more praises that have Clark blushing now that the tension has faded.  They hang up with the mutual exchange of “See you Saturday,” and Clark is proud that, at least in that, he didn’t sound any more pining than Lex.

 

Clark barely has enough time to go through the lunch line and scarf down whatever he can’t shove into his bag for later before the bell’s ringing.  Chloe and Pete both assess him and spend what little time there is left joking good naturedly about his disheveled state, but Clark doesn’t really mind.  He feels better than he has in ages, and spends the rest of the day grinning, feeling delightfully _good_.

 

**a/n:  so...that was a thing.  uhm, yeah, there's really nothing i can say except i hope you liked it??**


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